


A Cultural Exchange

by Piinutbutter



Category: Original Work
Genre: F/M, Light Femdom, Size Difference, Tentacles, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23644441
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piinutbutter/pseuds/Piinutbutter
Summary: A lonely space marine goes on a blind date with a pretty alien lady. He gets a little more than he expected. To be precise, he gets two hundred more pounds of pure muscle and three more tentacles than he expected.
Relationships: Female Alien Warrior/Space Marine
Comments: 14
Kudos: 47
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	A Cultural Exchange

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HostisHumaniGeneris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HostisHumaniGeneris/gifts).



“Home sweet home!”

‘Sweet’ wasn’t exactly a word Sandor would use to describe the planet they’d just docked on. From what he’d heard, Thelna Prime was basically one huge swamp. It rained for two-thirds of the year, and when the sun finally did come out to play, it was far too muggy to enjoy.

But, he supposed, that climate suited its pseudo-amphibious inhabitants just fine. His roommate sure didn’t seem to mind.

Yura bounded down the deck, stretching his lanky arms and soaking up the humidity in the air. The same humidity was making Sandor hang back and fuss with his hair, conscious of the way it was starting to curl up. Damn. Why couldn’t Yura have been a lizardman, with a nice dry desert home planet?

“What are you waiting for?” Yura called back to him. “If you’re going be here for a month, you’ll have to get used to the temperature. Your hair’s fine, stop worrying about it.”

Easy for Yura to say. As a Charian, his hair was dark, thick, and permanently gelled with whatever slimy shit his skin secreted to keep himself hydrated. For all intents and purposes, Yura was a normal, handsome guy who just happened to be a little wet to the touch. With some webbing between his fingers and toes. His equipment wasn’t even that different below the belt. (Sandor hadn’t exactly asked, but it would’ve been hard not to notice. Not much privacy in the fleet quarters.)

Still, Yura had been a pretty chill roommate and good company in between missions. The least Sandor could do was give the guy’s homeland a chance. Giving up on his hair, he let Yura lead the way.

The area around the port was mostly foreigners hanging around between stop-offs. Once they made it to the town proper, Yura pulled out his comm and began chatting with someone. Making arrangements to meet somewhere, it sounded like. After he hung up with a _see you soon! love you!_ , he changed course abruptly.

“We’ve got a while before check-in time at your new place. In the meantime, there’s someone who’d just love to meet you.”

Sandor gave him a flat stare. He’d made _one_ comment about not loving the single life, months ago. Since then, Yura had apparently taken up the burden of getting him a date.

“Really, dude?”

Yura shoved his shoulder. “I’m serious! She’s curious about human guys. You’re lonely-”

“I’m not lonely.”

“You’re lonely. Why not give it a try?”

He sighed. Sure, he’d like to meet someone. He just hadn’t expected the awkwardness of being set up on a blind date by his alien roommate.

“I’ll drop by and say hi. No promises of doing more than that.”

“That’s the spirit!”

It was a short walk to what seemed to be the Charian equivalent of a dive bar. The place was dim, dingy, and surprisingly packed, considering the off hour. Maybe Charian work schedules allowed for drinking in the middle of the day.

They found seats at the far end of the bar. Yura left him to use the bathroom. Sandor was hard at work deciding whether he wanted to be adventurous and try a drink he’d never heard of and couldn’t even pronounce, so he didn’t notice the alien newcomer until it was practically licking his ear.

“Afternoon.”

“Oh? Uh, after- _shit!”_

Sandor looked up and nearly fell off his stool in his attempt to put some space between himself and the creature that had greeted him. The thing was massive - easily Sandor’s height and a half, and it was leaning over at the moment. It was broad and layered in muscle that bulged under dark, speckled skin. What really startled him was its face. It had two different pairs of bulging eyes - one large pair placed low and towards the sides of its head, and one smaller, beady pair higher up and staring straight at Sandor. Its mouth was segmented almost like an insect’s. It was idly opening and closing said mouth in time with its breathing, and Sandor could see at least three separate thin, long tongues nestled inside.

“H-hi?” Sandor said, trying and failing not to sound like he was about to piss himself. This kind of alien was the stuff of nightmares for men in his line of work. It was bigger than him, unnerving to look at, and by the look of its muscles, a hell of a lot stronger than him. All the high-tech guns and cloaking shields in the galaxy wouldn’t do you a damn bit of good if you got cornered by something like this.

So what did it want with him?

Yura, bless his slimy heart, chose that exact moment to return from the bathroom. He looked from Sandor’s wide-eyed gaze to the alien newcomer he was (totally not) cowering from.

“Oh, perfect timing! I see you’ve met my sister.”

Sandor was fairly sure his brain actually short-circuited for a moment.

“Your _what_ now?”

When Yura had mentioned having a younger sister, Sandor had imagined...well, Yura with tits. Definitely not the monster looming over him.

The alien offered him a webbed hand with a palm the size of his head. “Maila,” it - she? - said. Her voice sounded like it was filtered through a running fan. Choppy and rumbly.

“Uh. N-nice to meet you.” He shook her hand. The webbing squished under his fingers like overripe fruit, but her grip was firmer than an insecure businessman’s. “Maila’s your name? I’m Sandor.”

Sandor looked back and forth between Yura - lithe, compact Yura - and his sister.

“So...which one of you’s adopted?”

Yura laughed, smacking Maila’s broad back affectionately. “We come from the same parents.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope! You’ve probably only met male Charians, right?”

“I guess.” Now that he thought about it, he’d never seen a female of Yura’s species. Which was odd, given how many Charians he’d seen. The little bastards were everywhere.

“Quick lesson in evolution,” Yura said. “Female Charians have a much lower birth rate than male ones. As you can see, they’re a lot bigger than their brothers, and so their bodies require a lot more sustenance and resources to sustain. Us guys weren’t always quite so humanoid, but when our ancestors started sending the expendable males to other planets to make contact, we ended up adapting our external anatomy to the new climates. Since the girls hung back on Thelna and were busy defending the homeland from hostile invaders and stuff, they never needed to modify their appearance.”

“Well, that’s cool,” Sandor said. Then it clicked. “So, um. Maila. Were you the one Yura wanted to set me up with?”

“I am.”

Oh geez.

Maila slid into the empty stool beside him. That was supposed to be for Yura, and Sandor was about to say so, but Yura had other plans.

“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other,” Yura said, patting Sandor’s shoulder. “Call me if he’s anything less than a perfect gentleman!” He winked at his sister before taking off.

Oh _geez_.

It wasn’t that he hated the idea of spending time with Maila. He just. Had been expecting a very different kind of alien lady. She could be a great woman, for all he knew. But his primal monkey brain could barely bring himself to look her in the second pair of eyes.

“So, uh-” he began, at the same time Maila said, “So your name is Sandor?”

“Oh, heh. Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, immediately withdrawing his hand when he felt how frizzy his hair had gotten. “That’s me.”

“It is a nice name.”

“Really? Thanks. I used to hate it, as a kid. My classmates would call me ‘Sandy.’”

“Sandy?” She cocked her head, and her mouth rearranged itself into a tongue-baring smile. A sound came out of her mouth that sounded like cooing. “That is cute.”

Sandor felt his heart skip a beat - not out of fear this time, but at the affection in her inhuman voice. Maybe it was from being around a bunch of guys for too long, but he was weak to a woman’s kindness.

Maybe this wasn’t a terrible idea after all.

* * *

It soon grew too noisy in the bar to have any type of meaningful conversation, so Maila ended up leading Sandor along the quiet backstreets of Thelna Prime in an impromptu tour. The place really was a total swamp, but Maila pointed out areas of interest. Namely, the distant network of above-ground caves made of black rock that seemed to shimmer even in the nonexistent sunlight.

“The Merian Mines,” Maila said. “The majority of our planet’s natural resources are harvested there.”

Sandor squinted at the caves. “Really? In just that one spot?”

“Yes,” Maila replied. “The mines have an incredibly self-sufficient ecosystem. They will regrow their resources at a hearty rate - assuming one does not harvest them too early, or too aggressively.” Her eyes narrowed, and two of her tongues flicked out in what Sandor had to assume was agitation. “That is my job. To guard the mines from foreigners who allow their greed to guide them. Were my sisters and I not here, Thelna would have long ago been destroyed by those who do not care for the health of the mines, nor that of our people.”

“Wow,” Sandor muttered. “If humans are one of the races that’ve tried to bother you guys, let me just apologize on our behalf.”

“They are,” Maila said mildly. “You are the first human man I’ve gotten close to without snapping his spine.”

“Please don’t break me. Yura wouldn’t be happy about that.” He was only half-joking.

“I will not snap your spine, Sandor.” She, at least, sounded sincere.

* * *

“This is the end of our tour,” Maila said. They’d stopped in front of a squat, plain building that looked like a set of apartments.

“Is this-”

“My home,” Maila explained. “Will you join me?”

Oh. Ohhh.

God, Sandor was hopeless. He wasn’t a kid, and he certainly wasn’t a virgin (he’d had two girlfriends! Count ‘em, two!), but he still got flustered at being invited to a woman’s place.

“Sure!” he said, hoping it didn’t sound too eager or too nervous, because he was both at the moment. Maila was nice. She could also probably crush him with one hand.

He followed Maila inside. The housing was clearly built for female Charians; all the halls were extra wide and tall, and the stairs looked and felt like they could withstand a hearty amount of weight. Maila lived near the end of one hall, and on their way, a door opened. Another female Charian stopped halfway through the doorway. She was even taller than Maila, and wearing the same kind of lightly armored uniform. Maybe she worked at the mines, too.

“Maila!” she exclaimed, delighted. “Is that what I think it is?”

“If you think it is a human, Nerin.”

“Uh,” Sandor said. “Hi.”

“He is so small,” Nerin cooed. “Very cute. Looks brittle, though. Be careful with him.”

 _You’re not helping_ , Sandor wanted to say.

“I will,” Maila promised. “Have a nice shift tonight.”

“Be good to her, human.” Nerin patted his head as she walked away.

“I...wasn’t planning otherwise,” Sandor muttered.

“I apologize for her,” Maila said, punching in the code to her own apartment. “She is correct, though.”

“I’m brittle?”

“Well, that as well. But you are also cute.”

Dammit. Sandor was definitely blushing. This was not how these things were supposed to go. The man was supposed to call his date cute and watch her blush, right?

He looked at Maila’s face. Cute definitely wasn’t the right word. Intimidating was more like it. But that also made her interesting. He supposed it was what thrill seekers felt when they were about to jump out of a plane or walk across a tightrope with no safety net: This thing could kill me, and that’s why it’s so enticing.

Maila’s place managed to be both sparse and messy. There weren’t many personal belongings in the first place, but what little stuff there was was spread around the rooms in haphazard piles. There were also a lot of weapons just chilling on the kitchen table. It was a contrast to her brother, who was such a neat freak he’d snark at Sandor for keeping his own side of the room too messy for his taste.

“Apologies,” Maila said as she turned the lights on. “I do not have many visitors.”

“I don’t mind.” Sandor tried not to stare at Maila’s giant bed as the lights illuminated it. Either he failed or Maila was already two steps ahead of him, because she put her slimy hands on his shoulders.

“Sandor. I am incredibly eager to learn about you and your body. Would you have me?”

That sure was one way to ask if he was down to tango. There was something to be said for a woman who knew what she wanted and asked for it without hesitation. Besides, it was a good thing one of them was confident right now.

“I - yeah! Yeah, I would. Just, uh.” He looked away, feeling like less like a competent marine and more like a flustered idiot by the moment. “Be gentle with me? Please?”

Maila let out an overjoyed chittering noise. She swept him off his feet and tossed him onto her bed with no further preamble. By the time Sandor got over the shock of that, she was already disrobing.

Her chest was completely flat under her armor - Sandor didn’t even see any nipples. Still, the contour of her muscle was an erotic sight in its own right. Her pants went next, and Sandor let out a breath of relief as he saw a subtle, raised slit just below her abdomen. At least he wasn’t in totally unfamiliar territory with the anatomy, here.

Maila’s expectant stare reminded Sandor to get rid of his own clothes. He was, by human standards, pretty damn buff. He’d been doing manual labor and enjoyed the gym as a hobby even before he decided to enlist. All he could think was that he must look absolutely scrawny to Maila.

If she minded, though, she didn’t show it. She joined him on the bed, raking wet fingertips down his chest and stomach. “Pretty,” she cooed.

Sandor found himself frozen now that they were actually here. Did Maila want to kiss him? Because that was gonna be hard. She didn’t have lips. Or nipples, so the usual foreplay options were out. Um. Were there Charian erogenous zones he didn’t know about? Should he just...

“You are worried,” Maila pointed out, pulling him against her broad chest. “Why?”

She had been honest with him. The least he could do was return the favor. “I don’t know what to do,” he muttered into her speckled skin, hoping she couldn’t feel the heat coming off his face.

“That is nothing to worry about, then,” she promised, stroking his messy hair. “Let me.”

She lay on her back and pulled him on top so he was straddling her, which was probably for the better, if you asked Sandor’s joints. It was all quite normal, at first - at least as normal as Maila could get. She wasn’t shy about taking his cock in hand and stroking it to attention. One of her long tongues darted out of her mouth and started licking around his neck and chest, which was terrifying at first, but damn if it didn’t feel good.

Feeling a bit selfish, Sandor hesitantly began to rub the ridged, puckered skin that almost certainly had to be a vaginal opening. When Maila gave him an encouraging nod, he got more confident with his fingers. The skin opened up gradually beneath his hands, pulling aside to reveal a pale, white channel of flesh.

“You are doing well,” Maila said. “Good boy.”

Something about being told that - in such a soft tone - by this hulking alien made Sandor’s entire body tingle with a warmth he’d never felt before.

The intimate moment was ruined by the feeling of something cold and slimy pressing against his ass.

“Um. Um?” Sandor craned his neck to look behind him. “Ummm.”

Three tentacles, soft blue in color, had emerged from lower between Maila’s legs. They were as thin as a shoelace for most of their length, but came to heads that were bulbous and pulsating. And they were definitely asking for entrance to his asshole - the insistent tapping against his inner thighs was hard to misread.

“Maila. What are those?”

She cocked her head, her tongues returning to her mouth. “What are what? My anchors?”

“Yes. Probably. The blue things.”

“If I am going to have sex, I need to keep my partner from running away.”

“I...wasn’t planning on running away.” Though he sure was considering it _now_.

“I know. It is just how the body works.” Seeing his trepidation, she cupped his cheeks between two massive fingers. “I promised I would not hurt you. It does not hurt. Ask the men of my species.”

“Easy for them to say. I’ve never put anything up there.”

“Do you not want to go further?” Maila’s beady eyes actually looked guilty, and there was sadness in her voice.

Sandor took a deep breath. “I mean, I’ve heard it can feel nice? For some guys? I guess I can give it a try.”

Maila lit up once more. “You are so sweet, Sandor. I promise I will make you feel good.”

He sighed, shifting in her lap to raise his hips for her. “Yeah, yeah. Just go slow.”

Maila didn’t break her promise. It didn’t hurt...it just felt weird. The thin tentacles wormed their way inside him, gentle but insistent, and right away he felt full in a way he’d never experienced. His body didn’t know what to do with the novel sensory information. Especially not once the heads of the tentacles, nestled happily inside him, began to expand.

“Whoa, hey, what?” Sandor didn’t bother to keep the spike of panic out of his voice.

“It is only a little growth,” Maila assured him, her hands on his hips holding him fast.

“D-doesn’t feel like a little. Feels like-” He was cut off by an involuntary gasp, followed by a whine. One of the tentacles had pressed hard at an angle that sent electricity up his spine.

So that was where his prostate was. You learned new things about yourself every day.

“They are anchored now,” Maila said. “You may take me.”

It was hard to get over the mental hurdle of trying to thrust into alien lady bits when he had an entirely different set of alien lady bits thrust into him. As soon as he eased himself between the lips of Maila’s opening and realized that it was tight, hot, and _bumpy_ in there, though...suddenly it wasn’t a big deal.

For the next twenty minutes, Sandor had the most mind-blowing sex of his life, tentacles and all.

After thirty minutes, he was slowing down and ready to take a break.

At the thirty-five minute mark, he was curled over Maila’s chest, breathless and overstimulated so much it hurt.

“I think your men have a lot more stamina than we do,” he panted.

Maila propped his limp upper body up with her arms. “You want to stop?”

“Just - for today,” he assured her.

“Well.” One of Maila’s tongues darted out and flopped in an odd, aimless tic. “There is a problem.”

“What?”

“My anchors are set to keep my mates locked with me for an hour and a half. They will not shrink enough to withdraw before that time without causing you considerable pain.”

Groaning, he clung to her. “Please, no more sex.”

“No, it is alright. I apologize.” She sat up, shifting to carry him princess-style in her arms. With her tentacles still very much inside him. “Would you...like to watch a movie until we can free you?”

Sandor let out a tired laugh. “You know what. That sounds great.”

He didn’t know if he wanted to thank Yura for playing wingman, or punch him for not giving him a heads-up about the tentacles. He’d settle for doing both.


End file.
